Belle Vie: Beautiful Life

10 minutes…. Time is a strange thing.  It can change and twist and destroy. 9 minutes…. It ticks away slowly and once it is gone, it can never come back. 8 minutes…. Many people don’t see time as precious. 7 minutes…. But what they don’t realize is that once their time has run out, there is no getting it back. 6 minutes…. Time cannot be reversed.  Time cannot be regained. 5 minutes…. Time is a bottomless pit.  You will continue falling for eternity, never able to go back, and never ending. 4 minutes…. Time continues to tick. 3 minutes…. Tick….tock….tick….tock. 2 minutes…. Life is short.  Tick….tock. 1 minute…. Times up

Beauty is something that all people view differently, and me?  Well, I’m staring right at the thing that I consider most beautiful.  You’re either reading this through a screen on a kindle or on the pages of a real book.  Yes, I can see you.  You beautiful human.  You beautiful, intelligent human. What do I look like, you might ask?  Well, that all depends on your imagination.  Your version of beauty could be different from someone else's.  That’s what makes you special.  I can be whatever you want me to be.  Tall, short, skinny, fat.  Totally shredded or even a skinny thing.  Though I personally prefer tall and shredded. How can I see you through the pages of a book?  When you read, your mind becomes one with the words on the page.  I see your mind and the beauty of it.  And through your mind, I see your physical appearance.  Ah, you beautiful creature.  But I know, that once you close the boo...

The three words on the paper haunted me.  Who was I?  My mind worked hard to think about every detail since the moment I had come into existence.  I thought about things I had thought were unimportant.  Did I have fingers and toes?  What did my face feel like?  How long was my hair?  I probably looked like an idiot as I felt around my face trying to identify features.  I felt two eyes, a nose, and a mouth.  My hair, I felt, was, as people called it, shaggy.  I couldn’t identify the color with touch, so I left that detail alone.  I had five toes on each foot, and five fingers on each hand.  I looked long and hard at my skin.  Yes, I did have skin and it wasn’t transparent, it was tanned.  I was human. I walked down the street in confidence for the next week, pleased that I had identified my species.  But I was still confused.  I hadn’t been able to identify myself as male or female.  And I stil...

Taking a deep breath I laid my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.  Just as I had expected, the nightmares came. I’d only recently arrived here, to this small rural town on the Eastern side of the United States of America.  At least I thought it was the Eastern side.  Where I had lived before I didn’t know.  I just kind of appeared one day, wandering the streets.  People always asked where I came from and I was never able to give them an answer.  Some of the residents tried to be polite and asked me about my past in an attempt to befriend me.  Who were my parents?  As far as I knew I didn’t have any.  I simply was.  Did I have any siblings or a significant other?  If I didn’t remember any parents, I definitely had no clue about the answer to that question.  Was I planning on staying?  I didn’t know anyone in the whole world as far as I knew.  There wasn’t really anywhere else for me to go. This t...

Depression has always been a part of my life.  Ever since I was a child, it was something I struggled with.  I thought that I would never be able to be happy.  To feel normal and emotionally balanced.  Then I met him.  Well, I literally ran into him. My doctor had suggested running as an activity to both keep me active and to help clear my head before the day kicked into full gear.  Running in the morning had become routine for me.  I found that I enjoyed the fresh crisp air and the blood rushing through my body as it worked hard.  I was running my usual route, when I looked over to see the ducks on the pond as I passed.  In that small second I ran into a man who was looking down at his phone.  We both tumbled to the ground in a mess of colors and scrapes. “I am so sorry!” I said, standing up. “Don’t worry about it.  I should have probably been watching where I was going.” I gave a little smile, it was the best I could ...

“I never stood a chance, did I?” “That’s the sad part—you did once.” The feeling of emotion was evident as the two spoke.  Even though they couldn’t see each other, they felt what the other felt.  They were very good at expressing emotion. “Then why did you make me say that stupid stuff that ruined everything?” “Me?  That was all you.  I even suggested better things, but no.  You just had to go with what you thought was right.  If only you’d listen to me.” “I do listen to you, but sometimes I have much better ideas.” “Sometimes?  You mean you think you have better ideas all the time.  If I had eyes, I’d roll them.” “Look, you're the wise one, I’m the feeling one.  That means that you do what’s right, and I do what feels good at the time no matter the consequences.” The other felt pity for its counterpart, even though the situation was entirely its own fault “Ah!  I hurt so much!” Mind sighed.  “That’s w...

When I first saw the color red, it was the big bow that the master put on me so that his wife would be surprised come christmas morning.  Ever since then, red is the only color I see, because it’s the color that started my story.  Black and white surround me, but I can see the red roses that the master bought his wife for their anniversary.  And I see more roses a few years later after she gives birth to a son.  The little boy, Jay, has curly hair and is always dressed in red.  He pounds on my keys, but I don’t mind.  I look after him, and he makes sure I stay in tune.  The mistress doesn't play me that much anymore now that she has the responsibilities of being a mother. When Jay is seven years old, he begs his mother to learn to play me the way she does.  Finally giving in, a teacher arrives and Jay learns to play.  It has been so long since I was used properly.  It feels good to make real music again.  The child’s teacher alw...